The Pretty Pale Boy
by FallenRoze
Summary: What happens when a certain Draco Malfoy decides to act on his lusts? [warning rape, mxm slash, DracoNeville, coarse language]
1. Bite Me

**The pretty pale boy**

_Life is brief  
But when it's gone  
Love goes on  
And on_

Draco strode easily through the halls of Hogwarts, flanked by other Slytherins in his year. His smile was easy but his cold eyes, easily unreadable sought out a certain figure – usually foreshadowed by three figures that caused a monster to rise and thrash in his gut. He pulled on one of the long nearly silver locks that he had allowed to grow ruggedly to his chin; chopped rather messily and made to easily fall in his pale face. The pretty pale boy pursed his lips, unable to find the figure that he so sought until… there.

A smirk crossed his jaw, stretching to the left side of his face and accentuating his entire features… almost distorting him; it was a rather nasty expression – of course Draco couldn't show that he truly had been seeking the rather frightened figure before him. "Longbottom," he said easily, the words dripping like heavy venom from his jaw and he watched the Gryffindor cringe – it seemed that Neville had grown some gut in the past year but not enough. Ah, well.

"Y-yes," the other boy said, raising his rather round face to look Draco in the eye – his own pale blue ones lined with uncertainty. Neville hitched his chin, trying to press a look of defiance across his face but he couldn't pull the stutter from his voice… it just wouldn't flee. That was all right though; Draco rather liked the stutter.

Draco pressed his hand against Neville's shoulder, almost as if he were going to push him and felt a tingle rise against his fingers. The Slytherin boy ground his teeth – this wasn't supposed to happen, none of it. Maybe if he got one taste, one night, he would be satisfied – and right then and there, with his hand pressed against Neville's shoulder he made up his mind to pursue. His cold grey eyes did not fully detect the fear resting so completely in those wide blue eyes gazing rather admiringly at him… all he registered were his fingers pressed up against the one he had been watching.

Draco purposefully wrinkled up his nose and pushed past Neville, turning his head around to shoot one last retort at the Gryffindor. "Try to grow some balls," he said to the laughter of those at his side – it was a simple enough comment but obviously stung and that, of course, had been the purpose.

--

Neville shivered – he could still feel the place where Draco's fingers had brushed against him and whether the touch had been for kindness or torment he didn't really care – it was still a touch and it still burned against him. The Gryffindor rolled over onto his side, pulling the crimson sheets up to his chin and closed his eyes the image of a pretty pale boy burning beneath his lids.

His fists were clenched against the sheets, so tight that his knuckles burned white and soon his eyes closed just as tight – the lids scrunching up as he tried to push the image of a Slytherin boy out of his mind. If it had to be a boy why a Slytherin… why Draco Malfoy?


	2. Not So Funny

Cool grey eyes traced the frightened figure of the Gryffindor boy, lust etched in the corners of his emotionless gaze. A commanding voice brought the pale-skinned boy out of his dreaming haze, stare quickly brought to the front of the room endless pupils catching the greasy-haired man that had commanded his attention… or rather the attention of everyone in the room. Draco gave the man a bored look but watched him all the same – Severus would not be happy if his star pupil appeared to have drifting attentions during one of his speeches.

"For the final project **I **will be pairing you up," he said simply, his eyes turning to snake-like slits and resting on the Potter boy – a satisfied smirk growing on his already too-thin lips. "The point of this project is not only to show your skills in Potions but also how well you can work with other students, students /not/ in your house." This time his gaze greeted the entire class as mouths dropped open and protests were made. Slytherins and Gryffindors working together… tsk… tsk.

The Potions Master turned his back on the class and the whispering began immediately though for once Draco was a silent observer, this interested him – this new turn of events. What did Snape have up his sleeve? The minute the teacher turned back around, this time with a slip of parchment in his hand, the class quieted. "I have drawn random names from each house and paired them together – I want no protest," he said each word with small step toward the students, gaze finally flickering toward Draco – almost as if to see his reaction.

The blonde boy gave no indication of any opinion – he had none until he found out how this unfolded, it seemed their crusty old Potions master did have a sense of humor after all. It was just one that meant to please only one person and that person was Severus himself.

"Potter and Zambini," Snape said, nodding toward each astonished student not pausing to get a gasp of protest out of either one of them. "Finnigan and Crabbe, Malfoy and Longbottom, Granger and Parkinson."

Draco's head shot up at the same moment as Neville's and he locked eyes with the frightened boy, who quickly turned away, before turning on his teacher. "Professor!" he said loudly, jumping to his feet and unable to resist the urge to slam a hand with well-manicured nails on his desk.

Snape turned on him with venom in his stare, the greasy-haired man's upper lip now rising in a snarl and his eyebrows tumbling together in a tight knit. "I said no protests, Draco," he hissed, voice coming out strained between tightly gritted teeth.

"What about my Potions grade?" he asked, eyes flickering from Snape to Longbottom and back to Snape… what about his grade? It was all too well known that Longbottom was the clumsiest, worst Potions student that had ever graced Hogwarts – Draco wouldn't even be surprised to find out that the boy was a squib!

"Would you rather switch with Zambini?" he asked, nodding meaningfully at Potter which caused Draco to slump mournfully back into his seat… defeated.


	3. Are You?

"Don't stir it so fast, Longbottom!" Draco snapped, grey eyes sharp with fury and frustration as he gazed mournfully at today's practice potion – it had long ago been destroyed despite Draco's many attempts to salvage it. The potion was doomed and it was all the fault of Severus for pairing him up with such a… such a… Draco clenched his teeth – he could not work under these conditions.

"I'm sorry D-d-Draco… I'm trying," he gulped, slowing his stirring so that it was almost nonexistent, taking nearly a minute for the wooden device to make it's way around the cauldron. But that stutter… even the most tense of situations…

Draco softened, just a bit and stepped forward to observe the Gryffindor's work; the frightened boy was stirring far too slowly and his hand was shaking which caused his tool to clang against the side of the cauldron, creating a, so much loud as annoying, noise that seemed to be drawing attention to the both of them. "Pathetic," Draco managed to say while exhaling and began to count to ten inside his head.

At the end of his count the pale boy sighed and grabbed the stirring utensil from Neville's hand, shooting him a look of disgust and began working on the potion himself – three turns to the right and two to the left then back… He marked a chipped spot on the shiny pewter cauldron where he would change direction, that was the spot where a full turn was completed.

Finally Malfoy abandoned the brew, tossing his head into his hands in exasperation he suddenly felt warm breath on his neck. He whirled around, dark eyes glittering as he spotted the cause of all his problems. "Can't you even stir a simple potion?" he asked, his voice venom

--

Neville looked at his piece of parchment… or rather his /and/ Draco Malfoy's piece of parchment onto which he was supposed to be writing the next days potion ingredients – Professor Snape had ordered them to research the necessary items themselves, on their own time so they'd be ready for the potion.

Each pair had been given a different and specific brew they were supposed to make and they had been given a week to find the proper items and gather the ones that weren't in the Potions Classroom. Draco and Neville had, of course, put it off until the last minute and were now together in the library looking up possible potions.

For the moment Neville had been left alone with his piece of parchment and quill – Draco would, of course, be the one looking up the Potions since he was better at it. All Neville had to do was write things down, an easy enough task right? Well… Draco had reassured the Gryffindor that _he _was positive that Neville would slip up, somehow.

_Slam! _Neville jumped about a foot in the air, and felt his quill flutter slip out of his hand and back onto the desk. "Calm down, Longbottom – it's just me," someone hissed from behind him and Neville felt a cold shiver run up his spine as he turned to look at the cold eyes of Draco Malfoy.

Draco slid into the chair next to Neville, which was located uncomfortably close and opened the thick volume he had dropped onto the desk. "Start writing," he commanded easily and Neville scurried to pick up his quill, staring determinedly at the piece of parchment before him as Draco started listing off ingredients. "Wolfsbane, a toad, Hu-"

"A whole one?" Neville asked, trying to look at the book out of the corner of his eye.

"Shut up and write!" Draco snapped, pulling the large volume further away from the round-faced Gryffindor, obviously noticing Neville's attempts at reading the book. He turned toward Neville, who turned red and was now staring down at his parchment. "Yes… a whole one," he drawled.

"Humorous," he said, while peering at Neville's paper then suddenly. "Longbottom!" which caused the Gryffindor to jump, his quill flying in the air fluttering down gracefully on Draco Malfoy's lap. Neville peered at the blonde boy, waiting for the Slytherin to pick it up but it appeared he wasn't going to, he said simply. "You spelled that wrong."

Neville bit his lip – Draco was going to _make _him pick up that quill. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes; slowly sliding his hand over and snatching it, thumb accidentally brushing against Draco's thigh. He gasped, quickly pulling his hands away, holding the quill close, "S-s-sorry..."

Neville watched, a flush curling like smoke across his face as a smirk crawled across the pale boy's features. Draco turned full on him quickly standing and walking toward the door to leave. The Slytherin stopped for a moment, a silver strand of hair falling in cold eyes as he peered at Neville with a stare that could turn him to stone. "Are you?" he asked, voice calm and calculated; almost laughing as he turned and strode easily out of the library leaving Neville to finish the research on his own.


	4. Empty Corridor

"Draco…" Neville said breathlessly as he finally caught up to the pale boy who had been purposefully ignoring the Gryffindor's attempts to catch him. Cold eyes turned, catching the wide blue ones right on center – grey pupils turning hard at the edges even as an almost pleased smile crawled across his lips.

"Yes?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently; perfectly arched eyebrows raising to create an easily look of boredom, long tapering fingers that were joined to a pale and slender hand tapped in rhythm with his foot against the wall. "You wanted something, _Longbottom_?"

"I… errr… I," he said, biting on his lower lip and taking a rather large step away from the intimidating Slytherin who was giving him a look that almost screamed "death wish". Neville thrust his arm out straight, a piece of rolled up parchment clasped tightly in his hand and looked at Draco expectantly who sighed.

"_What _is it?" He asked, grabbing the parchment roughly and shoving it into his robes, obviously not thinking it worth the bother to open and read right then.

"Th-The research you wanted," Neville said hesitantly, voice growing softer with every syllable he spoke as he stepped even further away from Draco and closer to the shadows of the empty corridor. "For the project," he explained hurriedly, peering behind him as if he were searching for some kind of escape route as the blonde boy stepped forward with every one of his backward paces.

"Right…" Draco hissed, grey eyes also sweeping the corridor but for reasons a rainbow away from those of Neville's. He put a pale hand out on the same wall that Neville had nearly been clinging to and the Gryffindor jumped away from it, nearly hurdling to the other side of the wide hallway. "You're a bit skittish tonight, mind explaining?" he asked, a grin twisting his features as he followed the Gryffindor to the other side of the corridor, though at a much slower pace.

"I… uh… I think I should go now," Neville said, eyes growing wider with every step Draco took toward him. He turned away, stepping in the other direction when a hand slammed against the wall, blocking his path – a hand that was moon pale. Neville peered to his other side and there was another hand there, fingernails tapping impatiently against the wall.

"Now… if I had wanted you to leave, Longbottom, I would've said so," Draco said, voice lowering almost to a whisper as he stepped forward, so close that the Neville could feel his breath. Suddenly there were no longer pale hands on the wall but instead they were on his waist and a tingle ran up his spine that he had never felt before.

"I…" he said, trying to move away but the pale boy pulled him forward with such a force that the Gryffindor nearly fell then suddenly something was invading him. Neville opened his eyes and realized that Draco was _kissing _him.

--

Pale hands ran down the wall and grasped for Neville's waist and Draco took a deep breath, feeling hot lightning shoot through his stomach. Had someone stuck him with a crooked dagger? The Gryffindor tried to move and Draco pulled him forward so fast that he didn't even realize he was doing it until he had a body pressed up against his and he was stepping forward so the other boy was pinned against the wall. He. Just. Needed. One. Taste.

Then he wanted more. "Damnit," Draco cursed himself and backed away from the breathless Gryffindor, his grey eyes flashing. He spun on his heel and headed toward the dungeons, glad that the other boy made no motion to stop him.

Note: Well... the romance shtuff came a little before I planned it to but this was just an irresistable scene.


	5. Don't Talk To Me

Neville entered the potions classroom late, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was tousled. He looked toward Draco, an empty seat beside him, and started toward the blonde boy. They were, after all, supposed to sit with their partners. The closer he got to the pale boy the more intense Draco's glare became and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Draco _did not _want Neville seated beside him today.

"I wouldn't if I were you, Longbottom," Draco said evenly. He watched with satisfaction as Neville's lip began to quiver and he looked from Snape, who was staring at him expectantly, to Draco.

"But, Draco. We we're supposed to sit by our, our partners," he said, struggling to get each word out of his mouth. Neville's flush began to intensify with his embarrassment, red creeping up his neck and the side of his face to connect with his already blushing cheeks.

"Mr. Longbottom!"

Neville snapped to attention as Snape snapped at him, and turned his gaze toward his impatient professor. He was rather confused and not entirely sure who he was supposed to obey. He would get in trouble with Snape if he didn't sit down but he didn't know what would happen to him if he did. "Y-yes Professor?"

"Take your seat," Snape said evenly, his voice inherently calm even though threats lay beneath the silky smooth control.

"Yes Professor," Neville said and promptly sat down, scooting his chair as far away from the Slytherin as he possibly could get it. Blue eyes quickly glued themselves to the desk as he prepared to spend the remainder of the lecture staring fixedly at his notes.

-

"Draco," he tried, voice quivering.

"Get me the - "

"About last night."

"What about it?" Draco snapped suddenly, finally abandoning his idea of ignoring Neville. He then turned away from his Potions book and gave Neville a full-blown version of his coldest, iciest glare.

"Well, about what happened,"

"Nothing happened!"

"But, Draco. I don't under-"

"Nothing! Am I clear?" He said, the last sentence said with his voice an octave lower, tones running like silk or like fingernails tearing against naked flesh.

"Y-yes."

-

He was grabbed roughly on his way toward the door and as he turned, curious, he saw smooth, moon-pale skin. Draco pulled Neville toward him so roughly that the other boy stumbled and fell against the Slytherin.

"Astronomy tower. Midnight," he spoke so quietly that Neville was not quite sure he hadn't imagined him speaking at all. But there he was and he still had a hold of Neville's arm. He was waiting for a response.

Neville nodded weakly.


	6. Touch Me

Draco was controlling the situation. He had perfect control of the situation. He could have ignored Neville for a week if he had wanted to. At least that's what he told himself. Something had tugged at him as he watched the boy stumbled around him in the Potions lab that afternoon and he had found it nearly impossible to _not_ touch Neville.

It was nice to have someone be so afraid of you and lust after you at the same time, but of course he didn't lust after Neville in return. It was just a fancy and it would pas away. After all, Neville was a Gryffindor and he was a boy and he was… Neville.

He knew Neville would come to him; no one could resist him. Draco had no doubts about himself. He was cocky and self-confident and he was sure that even the straightest boy couldn't resist his charm. Draco didn't even consider that Neville might be second-guessing the invitation.

-

And Neville was. The poor frightened Gryffindor had no idea what Draco could want with him, other than the obvious. He had never had that kind of attention before, especially not from someone so lusted after as Draco Malfoy. And didn't Draco hate him? He supposed that it was probably some elaborate trick designed to humiliate him in the end but it was impossible to resist the smooth serpentine sound of Draco's voice. And the memory of that kiss.

Neville didn't second-guess for long.

-

"Draco," he said, the word a whisper-moan as he was pulled quick by the arm. Suddenly Neville was pressed up against the slim form of a boy whose skin was as pale as the moon. The blonde boy chuckled as he tilted his head to look down at the Gryffindor, chiseled nails digging into Neville's arm. "Wh-what do you want with me?"

Draco laughed again, but this time the sound was more amused than bitter and he forced Neville's head so that he could bite into the smooth flesh of his neck. "Isn't it obvious?" he hissed as the other boy gasped almost soundlessly.

"Kind of," he said, struggling to get away from the Slytherin. Draco's grip tightened and he pulled Neville's body flat against his, pushing with his hips a little bit.

"You can't escape, little Gryffindor." Draco's grey eyes sparkled in the dim light, animated and excite but still lacking any concrete emotion. At least any that would show.

Neville was looking at Draco with an almost expectant look, probably expecting the pale snake to answer his question. The only answer he got was a hot tongue invading his mouth. He pulled away for a moment but there was a hand at the back of his head and another at his waist, tipping his toward the Slytherin, and a moment later he submitted to the pale prince.

Sometimes when people describe a kiss, a _real _kiss, they say times stops and they feel like they're falling. Like they're feet are no longer attached to solid ground and they are hanging, suspended in midair. Your entire body will start to tingle but really all you can feel is numbness in your mind and you can't really focus, like you're floating through a foggy dream.

That's how that kiss was. The first kiss in the Astronomy tower with the stars shining down on them, Neville not quite sure what he was surrendering to. Neither one of them truly planted in reality.

Everything began to intensify very quickly. Neville found himself against a wall with a hot body pressed against him, kisses a nips tugging at his neck and shoulder. Pale, foreign hands were under his shirt, clawing at his back and hips were grinding, grinding against him.

Everything was silver and green and cold grey eyes and snakes and lions. Everything was hands and mouths and tongues and teeth. Everything was biting and kissing and rubbing and touching.

Draco stood back suddenly, the moon shining on his bare chest. There was a line of nip marks from his right collarbone to his left nipple. He ran his fingertips along the hickeys and smirked. "I'm impressed," he said, tones dripping like seductive syrup from his jaw. Then he turned, picking up his robes, and walked away.

Leaving Neville half-naked and wanting.

-

-

**Note: **I'm sorry it took so long for the update on Chapter Five. I got started on something else and then after I had it half-finished I decided it wasn't worth writing. So I'm back to this. I am planning on updating at least weekly so stay tuned; hopefully we'll finish soon since I finally got my butt into gear. Please review, it makes me happy.


	7. Subtle Distractions

Draco hadn't meant to let it go that far. He was only going to have a taste. One taste and then he had planned on leaving. It had taken him that long to realize that he had lost control, both of them with half of their clothes torn off, and he was ready to ravage the Gryffindor. He had fled.

He supposed it was wise to leave him wanting for more but then again Draco himself wanted more. That wasn't supposed to happen, his lust was supposed to fade. This was simply a game; once he got his fill then he could leave the poor boy.

-

It had been nearly a week and Draco had not said a word to him. Neville was confused. He knew it had to be a secret, especially since he wasn't sure what it been, but he had been sure that Draco would at least talk to him. It was true that Draco hadn't been picking on him but his outward attitude toward Neville had not changed at all and Neville wasn't even sure if Draco was planning on meeting with him again. And Neville _wanted _to see Draco again, even if Draco was a Slytherin and didn't talk to him.

Occasionally when walking down the hall Draco could push past him, or in Potions their fingers would brush slightly when reaching for an ingredient. Neville could swear that, even though Draco had not kissed him again since the night in the Astronomy tower, when Draco looked at him he could see a kiss in those grey eyes. Such a kiss that would take his breath away and leave him speechless, leave him lovelorn, leave him moved and unmoving.

-

"Don't you think it's strange," Harry said, tossing down his Divination book and look around him. Neville, Ron, Harry, and Hermione were all in the Gryffindor common room. They were supposedly doing homework but Hermione was the only one who was really working. "That Malfoy seems to have stopped badgering you," he finished, turning his attention toward Neville.

Neville turned red and looked down at his book. It was true that Draco had not been commenting on him so much anymore, which meant his attentions were directed toward the other Gryffindor's with much more menace than usual. Neville should have known that they would notice sooner or later. To make matters worse, or better depending on how you looked at it, he had finally received some word from Draco. He was supposed to meet him during his free period tomorrow in the prefects bathroom.

His bit down on his lower lip and pretended to be completely absorbed in his Potions book. He did have to study after all, if he wanted to impress Draco. And he did. "I don't think so. He's been bothering me just as much as ever," he said, rather unconvincingly considering that his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were glued to the table.

"No. I've noticed as well," Hermione said, finally looking up from her finished essay. "He seems to be-"

"Maybe he takes turns with us. Once he runs out of soddy stuff to say to one of us he just moves on to the next," Ron suggested. Then his eyes lit up when he saw that Hermione had finished her assignment. "Oh! You're done? You'll do mine, then?" he said, shoving his parchment and books at her.

An argument ensued but Neville was only glad that he was no longer the topic of conversation.

-

"Draco's distracted!" Pansy sang, her voice driving into Draco's head and instantly giving him a migraine. She was sitting as close to him as she possibly could, clinging to his arm and trying to get the pale snake to pay attention to her. Her tactics were obviously not working. She sighed disgustedly and detached herself from him when she got no response. "What wrong with you?"

"Isn't it obvious," Blaise said, voice rising from out of the shadows. He came up from behind the both of them and seated himself in between them, looking very catlike in his confidence. "Draco's in looove," Blaise said, drawing out the last word so that it sounded almost musical.'

The pale prince finally turned toward his fellow Slytherins, an impatient sigh escaping from his tightly clenched jaws. "I am not in love. I am tired," he said, his voice carrying a threat beneath the regular icy tones. Slytherins did not fall in love. Slytherins did not even lust for very long.

Pansy had already perked up tat the earlier suggestion. "Oh really!" she squealed, delightedly clapping her hands. "Who's the lucky guy?"

Draco rose to his feet instantly, glaring down at the both of them. "And if I was with anyone what makes you think it would be a guy?" he asked, voice absolutely dripping venom. He was instantly defensive. Of course he didn't like guys, this thing with Neville was only a game, only a phase. He was just playing with the Gryffindor; he didn't want it himself.

"There's no other explanation," she said as if she was stating the most obvious thing in the world. "Why else would you be dating me." Pansy's tones were contemptuous and she crossed her arms as she said the last.

Blaise laughed, tossing his head back and absolutely basking in the sparks that he had started. "You do act kind of faggy," Blaise said, quickly rising to his feet and slipping out of the room. It wasn't hard to figure out that the place was going to go up in flames in just a few minutes.

Draco wasn't focused on Blaise. It was Pansy's arrogance that irritated him. And the shrillness of her voice. They were both on their feet now, facing off, and he took a step toward her. "You do happen to know, do you not, that you aren't half as attractive as you seem to think you are," he hissed, spitting venom. "There is nothing that could make me want to be with you.

It took him a moment to realize that she had slapped him. He wasn't used to being hit, especially not by girls. The pale boy shook his head and then brought his hand up to the red, throbbing place on his face. "Bitch."

He walked away.

--

**Note: **Thanks so much for the reviews. They were inspiring and made for happy writing. I am going to try to make my chapters longer. I love you all.


	8. Get Out Of My Head

Draco was sauntering around the bathroom when Neville walked in, lounging around in quite short green boxers, lined in silver silk. He looked quite comfortable with himself, sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the bubbles. Pale snakeskin shone even in the dim light and Neville could still see the faintest trace of hickey marks.

The viper feigned surprise as the Gryffindor entered, tilting his head coyly. Draco's cold grey eyes were narrowed, zeroed in on Neville and the expression on his face was very much that of the predator. "Good," he said, his look visibly softening but it was obviously a practiced expression. A purposeful expression. In one easy motion he stood, turning around the fully face Neville.

The Gryffindor nearly dropped his things when faced with the full force of Draco's gaze but managed to regain as much grace as he had had before and set them near where Draco had strewn his clothes. "I… uhm. I'm here," he said, not sure what to say to the silver creature who was looking at him with an expectant gaze. Draco seemed to want something from him, for him to do or say something and Neville had no idea what that was.

"That is obvious," Draco said, a laugh escaping at the end of his words although he was trying to suppress his amusement. His lips were drawn down, his gaze unflinching and cold. He sighed when he finally realized that Neville wasn't going to move on his own and stepped toward the Gryffindor, taking him by the hand and pulling him further into the room. It took some patience but Draco got the Gryffindor to undress down to his boxers. Neville was quite a bit more guarded when he was able to think clearly.

Draco was finally smiling as he backed away from Neville, his pale skin luminescent in the light, boxers low on his protruding hipbones. The svelte body moved easily, practically slithering backward before he took a quick step forward, again the viper. He struck for an unknown reason unless he merely wished to frighten his prey.

The boy stumbled backward and into the pool of bubbles, leaving Draco to smirk above him. Neville was stunned for a moment, not quite sure whether to laugh or to run away, Draco was hard to understand and it still wasn't obvious enough to him whether the boy was trying to scare him or seduce him.

Draco himself finally slipped into the pool, not even creating a ripple in the calm waters. His eyes were narrowed and they sparked when they finally caught Neville's gaze. "Come here," he said, his tones low, seductive and sweet.

Draco smirked and drew the Gryffindor to him as soon as Neville was within range. He kissed him hungrily, devouring every inch of self-control that Neville had once had. But when Neville kissed him back Draco's control began to slip away as well. Suddenly there were teeth on his neck and Neville was biting him, and there were nails at his back.

Draco pushed him away suddenly, hunger in his eyes but also anger. Neville didn't notice and tried to pill the Slytherin back to him but Draco pushed him again, forcefully. "I'm in control," he growled as he stepped closer to Neville. "Not you." _You will not make me lose control._

Neville's eyes were wide with some kind of emotion; it was a mix of fear and lust. He grabbed onto Draco's wrists and pulled him gently, trying to get the Slytherin to come back to him and the snake finally submitted to the gentle pleas.

"You like that don't you?" he asked, eyes half-lidded and curious. The more aggressive he got with the Gryffindor boy the more Neville seemed to want from him. Such a surprise from one so… Neville.

"Like… what?" he asked, taking hold of Draco's hips and pulling him closer. Draco advanced, pushing into Neville for a moment before drawing back. Neville returned the motion but Draco stepped away.

"This," he said, and suddenly his nails were thrust into Neville's hips where Draco had been holding him. That's when Draco pulled him closer, running his nails down Neville's thigh.

Neville bit his lip, closing his eyes. He wasn't supposed to like it; it was supposed to feel bad. It was pain, pain was supposed to hurt. "Yes," he said, his voice low.

"Yes what, my pet?" Draco asked, cruelly drawing away from Neville. He wouldn't touch him. He leered at the Gryffindor who wanted him so badly. He didn't, couldn't, want him in return.

"Yes, I like it," Neville said, reaching out for Draco who just stepped further away. Neville opened his eyes and saw Draco only a few feet away playing with the bubbles in the pool. "Come here?" he asked weakly, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

"Why?" Draco barked, suddenly snapping his attention toward Neville, the bubbles completely forgotten about. Why did he want to go to Neville? Why did he feel tempted to listen when the Gryffindor asked him something, why did he even pay attention to the boy at all?

"Because I…" Neville stopped for a moment. He didn't know why. It was just a feeling, he wanted Draco close, touching him, kissing him, even yelling at him. "I don't know."

"Never mind," Draco said, his voice growing softer. It only took him a moment to climb out of the water and slip his clothes on, Neville following suit because he wasn't sure what else to do.

"Goodbye," Draco said, his voice clipped and cold. He started to walk away but then he turned back and pulled the Gryffindor to him, kissing him desperately. He wanted his mind to stop thinking and it seemed to only way to stop thinking about Neville was to kiss Neville.

--

**Note: **I know kind of angsty. I realized that after I wrote it but they're developing emotions, just a tad. Draco is still Draco and will always be Draco! This one is longerish, I'm working on it. Yay for reviews, they make me happy.

Jessicka


	9. Say you want me

"You're staying here at Hogwarts during the holidays," Draco said, making it a statement, not a question. Both of the boys were sitting with their backs against the astronomy tower wall and it had been only two days sine they had met in the prefects bathroom.

Neville looked at him with rather wide eyes. He usually went home during the holidays, he would usually visit his parents but it wasn't mandatory. Here was an opportunity to stay at Hogwarts with Draco; they could be together nearly every day. No one ever stayed here during he holidays. "Alright."

Draco smiled, biting on his lower lip. He couldn't his satisfaction with the situation and he didn't really want to. He had Neville for the whole holiday, no one to bother them. He took the Gryffindor's hand in his and brought it up to his lips, kissing the top of the hand and then taking his teeth to the knuckle.

"Come here," he said, his voice softer than it normally was but there was still a command under the more gentle tones. He took the hand that he was already holding and pulled slightly, bringing an obliging Neville closer to him and then atop him. Draco was still sitting but Neville was straddling him awkwardly.

Draco began to nibble on Neville's neck and moved down to his collarbone, soon removing the Gryffindor's shirt. He looked with an admirer's gaze upon the marks he had made, some of the permanent scars. "My beautiful handiwork," he said, running his nails lightly across the top of Neville's shoulders.

Draco pushed the boy away from hi, quickly abandoning his short and laying his hand thoughtfully across a bite scar on his collarbone. "Do you like your handiwork?" he asked, pushing Neville down on his back so that he was looking up at the open sky.

Suddenly Draco was on him, their bare chests were touching and the snake's hipbones were digging in with a force. "Yes," he gasped, trying to focus on the stars.

Draco took Neville's nipple in his mouth, exploring artfully with his teeth and tongue before moving to Neville's mouth. For a moment they were lost in the kiss, some kind of haze folding over them and clouding their thoughts. Draco couldn't focus; he just knew that he was kissing Neville and that he wanted to keep kissing Neville. He never wanted to stop.

He could feel Neville beneath him, and he pushed a little bit with his hips. A mewling sound escaped the creature beneath him and Neville pulled him closer, biting down on Draco's neck.

"Do you want me?" Draco asked.

Neville nodded.

"Say it."

"I want you."

Draco pushed with his hips again, causing Neville to bite down on his lower lip. "Again."

"I want you, Draco."

"Good. You're supposed to."

Suddenly Draco moved down, quickly pulling Neville's boxers off of him. The Gryffindor gasped in surprise before he felt Draco's mouth around Him.

-

He couldn't help smiling at him when he was flustered. When he was embarrassed. It was slightly… cute. Or perhaps it was just funny. "That's not right," he said a second time and reached for a book to show the Gryffindor what he meant. Draco had thought for a while that he would just do the Potions work for the both of them but Neville had made such an effort to improve that Draco had begun to teach him little things.

"Here. The ingredients are here. All you need to do is fetch them," he said, tipping his head back and looking affectionately at his pet. It wasn't a difficult task but Neville always seemed to mess it up in some way or another. Although recently it had turned more amusing than annoying. "I do believe you'll get it right eventually," he said, smirking.


End file.
